


Baby it's Cold Outside

by TheBashfulPoet



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Andrew Minyard, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 17:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBashfulPoet/pseuds/TheBashfulPoet
Summary: Andrew hates the cold. Absolutely abhors it, so why in the hell is he outside on the coldest day of the year in the middle of a snow-covered campus? The answer as always is Neil.Or Winter themed prompts:"If you throw that snowball, you're declaring war" & "You murdered my snowman"





	Baby it's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Idnis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/gifts).



> So much love to Cindy (aka Idnis aka the sweetest person in the world) whom I've had the absolute pleasure of becoming friends with this past year and getting to know her (and geek out about so many things). Cindy you're an absolute doll and I love you! Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays to all!!

            There wasn’t much Andrew missed about California (in fact nine times out of ten he actively flipped the state the metaphorical bird) but its year-round sun-filled weather was something he only appreciated when he left and discovered that a change in season actually meant weather that dropped below 60. That snow fell from the sky when it got even colder.

            His first year in Columbia was a learning experience to say the least (a freaking awful one at that). After that first year, Andrew declared war on the cold. He went out and bought the warmest coats, gloves, and scarves money could buy and swore never again to deal with the weather more than he had to (ie walk to his car and out of his car back into his warm bed).

            And yet, here he finds himself wrapped to high heavens with his nose burning red and a cloud of air obscuring his vision every time he takes a breath in the middle of the coldest day South Carolina has seen in years. His eyes narrow into tiny slits as he watches the reason for this torture throws his head back in a laugh.

            Neil is everything Andrew isn’t in the cold. Somehow the layers and layers of clothing meld seamlessly to his body making him look more like a model on the cover of the winter edition of those fashion magazines Allison likes reading so much; whereas Andrew looks like a troll swaddled in his horde of stolen blankets. His entire being is a sharp contrast to the snow-covered world around him: his stupidly red hair sticking out from a hideously orange fox beanie Matt gifted him, his lithe form sleek in the matching black coat Nicky had gifted them the year prior, and his bright blue eyes even brighter with the light bouncing off the snow into them. He stood entirely apart from the sharp white that blanketed PSU’s campus, only making him more vibrant and alive in his contrasting nature. (Andrew doesn’t know why he’s surprised; Neil Josten was made of contrast — all contradictions and infuriating puzzles.)

            Surrounding his idiot are the rest of the foxes, each equally as contrasting in their PSU Exy jackets and matching fox beanies (it was a group gift, one Andrew refused to partake in) as they try rolling various sizes of snowballs together for snowmen. At some point one of them bet on who could make the best snowman which of course led to them all scrambling to outdo the others in hopes of winning the ever growing pot. Andrew decidedly walked away and parked himself on the bench far far away from their antics. He may be forced into watching them make fools of themselves but he’ll be damned if he participated in it. It was cold enough just sitting there, no fucking way was he going to make it worse by actually playing with this icy substance causing the chill in the first place. Nope.

            Hell, he didn’t even want to be out here in the first place. He had been willing and planning on staying inside their warm little dorm when their esteemed captain decided they needed to take advantage of this snow day for some “team bonding.” Or at least he had been planning to do so until Neil came up to him and asked if they could join. It was already a lost cause by then (damn his inability to deny the junkie anything) but when he asked why just to be contrary, Neil shrugged and said that he never had a snow day before and it sounded like fun. Andrew knew then that there could be no other answer than yes. Because in that little admittance, Andrew could hear the slight bit of longing for a piece of the childhood life robbed from him because of a serial killer father and an abusive mother dragging him across the world.

            So, damn it, he grabbed his coat and resigned himself to a couple of hours freezing his ass off because he’d be damned if he robbed that from Neil like they had. And here he sits — outside in cold ass weather wondering where he went wrong in life (he has an inkling it started in a dingy little locker room in Arizona).

            He is debating whether or not it would be worth it freezing his fingers for a smoke when a high pitched yelp fills the air. His eyes immediately shoot up and find his cousin covered in snow, the dark curls of his hair speckled with white and dripping onto his snow-covered shoulders. In front of him Kevin stands smugly with his hands on his hips and nose pointed in the air. The rest of the foxes watch in bated silence.

            “What the actual fuck Kevin!” Nicky screeches.

            “You were taking my snow piles. I figured if you wanted it so bad, I could lend you a hand.”

            “No one owns snow Kevin! It’s snow!”

            “Yeah, my snow.”

            Nicky looks at him incredulously. Then he tackles Kevin into the ground and shoves snow in his face. “Here have it back then!”

            The two roll around trading snow filled blows before breaking apart and proceeding to fling the damn thing at each other. Andrew hears the screams for a snowball fight and watches as the rest of the team quickly devolves into chaos. He decides that he’s done enough.

            Digging into his pocket for his pack and lighter, Andrew turns to go deciding that if Neil wanted to be out here freezing in some childish game then he was welcome to it. But Andrew was going back inside where it was warm and he could smoke in peace.

            At least that was the plan before something wet and cold touches his neck and he jumps. The foxes get mysteriously silent.

He slowly turns, fingers already itching for his knives as he imagines the very brutal and violent end one of his “teammates” is about to suffer at his hands. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he sees Neil first (everyone else is too smart to even think about it), a shit eating grin on those pink lips and a wicked gleam in those too blue eyes. The snowball is curled in his glove covered hand doesn’t come as a surprise either.

            “You have a death wish, Josten” he growls. The rest of the foxes look nervously between them.

            Neil only smiles wider, “I like to think of it as being daring.”

            “More like braindead.”

            “Maybe you just looked like you needed to cool off.”

            “And you look like you could use a few more holes in you.”

            Neil smiles and Andrew hates him. He tosses the snowball up and down a couple of times while Andrew glowers as his eyes track the movement. That wicked gleam shines brighter and Andrew just knows what is coming next.

            He narrows his eyes in a glare that would (and has) sent most running. “Careful Josten. Don’t start something I have to finish.”

            And because he’s a little shit, Neil blinks innocently and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            The snowball lands in his hand again and Andrew points a finger at him in warning. “If you throw that snowball, you’re declaring war.”

            Neil holds his gaze for a couple of seconds before shrugging and seemingly turning back to the foxes. Andrew watches for a few moments to make sure he isn’t trying something before turning to leave. That is when the second snowball hits the back of his head. He whips around with a growl and his face twisted into a snarl with full intentions in maiming the idiot when Neil’s bright laughter fills the air as he skirts behind Boyd’s tall figure.

            Not one to be left out of the fun for too long, the rest of the foxes quickly arm themselves for battle, dividing into teams. On team Neil, Matt, Dan, Allison, and Nicky act as walls in keeping Neil out of Andrew’s reach while acting as shields for the fast little shit to dart around and pelt Andrew with more snowballs. On Andrew’s side, Aaron (always looking for a reason in getting at Neil) slots himself at Andrew’s back and targets their cousin while Kevin aids for his own revenge against Nicky. Surprisingly Renee joins his team and partakes in bombarding her roommates and Matt with a barrage of snowballs excellently aimed.

            Neil’s laughter bounces in the air and fills his ears alongside the yells and laughter of the rest of the foxes and Andrew hates it. Before long he manages to slip by the upperclassmen’s defenses and tackles Neil into a mound of snow, pinning him to the ground with his hands and hips. His hair is a splash of red against the snow, beanie long lost in the battle, his cheeks flushed with excitement and exercise, and his chest heaving as he expels clouds of air between lips pulled into a smug smile.

            Andrew hates him. “300%”

            His smile only grows, “Yes or no?”

            Andrew looks around to see all their teammates too busy in their own battles to notice them off to the side. He turns back to Neil and stares at those bright eyes and pink lips. “Yes.”

            Neil’s eyes slide closed as Andrew leans down, but instead of lips meeting lips Andrew mashes a handful of snow into his face. Those eyes snap open and he sputters several curses in languages Andrew doesn’t know.

            “What the fuck Andrew-”

            He silences his protest with a quick press of lips, both of them too cold for it to ignite the fire in his chest (but it does). When Andrew pulls away, Neil’s eyes are blown and the smug smile gets replaced with a look of daze. Andrew smirks before he pushes himself off and begins dusting off the snow clinging to his coat. Neil stands a few seconds later (once his brain restarted) and looks at Andrew.

            “You’re an ass.”

            Andrew levels him with a look. “I told you not to start something I would end.”

            Neil snorts before shaking his hair free of snow like some dog. Andrew grimaces as he shoves Neil’s head away before he can fling snow back onto him. When he’s finished, he opens his mouth to say something before the words die on his tongue and his brows furrow in a frown.

            “What?”

            “You murdered my snowman.”

            Andrew looks around and sure enough, bits of rock and sticks poking out from the mound of snow Andrew tackled Neil into. When he turns back to Neil, he gives him a blank look — one he has to fight the twitching corners of lips from ruining. He digs for his cigarettes as a distraction.

            “Tough shit. You would have lost anyway.”

            Neil laugh, belly deep and loud and bright and Andrew thinks that maybe the cold wasn’t so bad after all, so long as he could have this fire simmering in his chest and Neil by his side.


End file.
